Reconnecting
by Belgio
Summary: Spain is love with Bel still. He's alone and drunk. He cooks up an idea to start talking to her again. Rated T for the drinking.
1. A Love Lost

**Ok.. Look... As a writer I feel I need to say this. The relationship between Belgium and Spain isn't all pretty. He taxed her almost to death, treated her like a slave, and when his war fell apart, Austria swooped in and took control over her. This is also a shout out to all the France's out there... Thanks for the support in her independence! **

**I wrote this FF for one reason if you're wondering...**** My friend asked me if I would write a happy FF that involved the two.**

**BTW:I don't own Hetalia or any of it's characters, writting FF's is a hobby...**

Spain slumped on his black leather couch, resting his head on the back of the cold material. He was feeling lonely yet again. It was the third time this month his heart was filled with tears. It's not something he would ever admit too any of his friends.

He kept this secret to himself. Antonio choked down a building sob and batted his green eyes clear of any tears threatening to spill. The air felt heavy and the smell of red wine in the air helped dull his senses so the pain wouldn't feel so sharp. He chewed on his lower lip and lifted his head slowly. The nation needed another gulp of sweet, red wine.

The living room was dark and with only the glow of the tv to guide him to his fresh bottle. He had some music channel on, with a man singing about his lover leaving him, and he wasn't over them yet. Spain's eyes bitterly looked at the television screen. Antonio's bitterness got the best of him. He hated the song and it's very saddening tune.

It reminded him of the situation he was in and that was a reality he faced every morning he woke up to an empty bed. Spain would run his calloused fingers and palms slowly across the white, satin sheets. His cheek rested upon the matching pillow. Some days he would day dream about her being there other days he's even called lovers accidentally by her name.

The man's green eye's darkened as the stared at the ceiling. The Spaniard needed her. It was a fact that he lived with every day. He would do anything to gently caress her back and shoulders softly; to see her sleep next to him. Spain wanted nothing more than to nuzzle his nose into her locks of golden hair.

His heart sank further dragging his feelings with it. His relationships in the past never worked out, the root of the problem was anyone whom he ever dated wasn't the person he wanted. She was everything to him. A hard lump developed in his throat and he did his best to choke it down.

"Belgium", he groaned loudly, scooping up the bottle of wine he had just opened. Spain welcomed the sweet nectar of alcohol trickling down his throat as he tilted his head back. The burning sensation from the lump, dissipated as he drank the fourth bottle of wine that evening.

Antonio ran a rough hand down his face and let out a long jagged breath. God, there wasn't a day that went by he didn't think of her. The male nation stared up at the white ceiling again, it looked blue from the glow of the music video. He swallowed another lump building in his throat.

He loved her. To be honest with himself, Spain never stopped loving her, he never once hesitated to think of her. He had made his mistakes and he had to live with them. Antonio knew he would never have a chance again with her. He used her, starved her, worked her to the bone, all to support his wars, his expeditions, then when everything fell apart Austria took her away, just like that.

Bel never once looked back. It was the last he ever got to look into her beautiful leaf green eyes of hers. Spain remembered that day. He had to grab her arm and turn her around, forcing her to look at him. The nation remembered, he reached out to touch her sun kissed cheeks but she recoiled with a look of disgust in her eyes.

He even recalled the woman pulling her arm back from him, breaking his grip. Spain was so taken back by her own strength she had gained from working in his fields and stables. He was speechless. Antonio reached for the empty space she left as she walked away, her tattered, filthy, green maid's skirt disappearing into Austria's cart was the last he saw of her.

Years later he's tried to talk to her over and over again. Bel has ignored him, stepped around him, but once he could have sworn she tried to talk to him; only to have her brother usher her away before she could say anything. The petite blond waved bye gently as she was being pushed softly between the shoulder blades. At that moment, he had a tiny glimmer of hope. Since that day 10 years ago, he hasn't stopped thinking of ways to talk to her.


	2. A Fool's Idea

Spain tilted his head back as he pressed the edge of the bottle to his lips and slowly took in the sweet wine; heat begun to intensify inside him. Something stirred deep from with in him. An idea hatched from the loneliness that ate at him and the heavy consumption of alcohol.

Antonio picked up his phone and dialed Belgium's number. Spain had to pay Lovi top dollar for it but he had no regrets. He memorized the numbers so well he could recite it backwards while intoxicated. The nation hesitated before he hit the green button on his touch screen. He cooked up a better idea in that instant.

Instead of hitting send and pretending he was trying to call Lovi, he'd text her to see where things might go. Besides if she gets upset he can play it off as he mixed the numbers up and he might be able to let her ghost lay to rest. It would be either his closing or something else... With the alcohol feeding his sparkle of hope, he sat up and stared at the device.

He typed up his message. His hands became sweaty with nerves and trembled uncontrollably. The Spaniard's heart beat violently. The nation took a deep uneven breath and hit the send button. He waited what seemed like years.

Antonio finished off a quarter of the bottle. He had lost hope but as he took another swig of wine, his phone vibrated. Spain's olive green eyes shifted in the direction of the faintly glowing device. His heart skipped a beat as he grabbed it with lightning speed.

In his palm held the future and he was slightly unsure he wanted to read it. Horrid things came to mind as the inbox symbol appeared on the flat screen. He hesitated, wavering his thumb over the touch screen. "May God have mercy", he softly whispered.


	3. The Truth

His rough thumb tapped the screen.

_**Hallo, Antonio. How are you?**_

*Spain couldn't help but cup his mouth and smile. He wanted to cry and laugh at the same time. She responded to his: Hola Lovi, my little tomato and didn't seem upset. His body vibrated with joy. Spain's hands quivered with excitement. He knew if he was to keep up the charade he needed to think of something that didn't sound to suspicious.*

_Hola Bel, my apologies... I seem to have text the wrong person... I've been doing ok. How are you?_

_**It's alright Spain, I'm fine. What have you been up too?**_

*Her question caught him off guard. It wasn't that he couldn't answer the question but the idea that took his breath away was 'they were speaking again.' A bit of sadness filled him. Spain knew he should be happy but it was an emptiness he had to live with for so long.

After all this time, if he had just said hello, would she have responded? His drunken mind was fogging up his happy thoughts with sad ones. The man shook his head and simply continued with the one he's always wanted to talk to. *

_Nothing much. Harassing Lovi, making fun of Gil and drinking wine with Francis. What about you?_

*The man wanted to ask more questions but he decided against it. His breath quickened. His heart raced. He was now afraid of the answers to the questions that swam inside his head.

What if she was seeing someone now, what if she was with the guy at the moment? The what ifs piled in his mind, flooding his thoughts. Spain knew he had to get it together, he puffed out his cheeks awaiting for her reply, letting out a heavy sigh.*

_**Nothing much really. Actually the truth is..., I'm haven't really been doing anything. I make chocolates for the local children and harvest the beer when it's ready. To be honest I was pretty bored tonight... I have a bottle of wine and listening to some music channel. I like the songs on it. I know pretty lame huh? **_

*Spain's heart stopped. She was doing the same as he. He stood up like someone kicked him and dialed her number. Antonio needed to hear her sweet voice, the man was in disbelief. He couldn't believe his eyes when he read that message. God Bel, please pick up, he thought quickly as he paced between the glass coffee table and the couch.*


	4. To Hear Her Voice

Belgium did as if God was answering his prayers. "Hallo?" Spain could hear a sniffle behind her greeting. "Hola, Belgica. You don't sound so good. Tell me what's going on, por favor." She chuckled bitterly. "It's nothing 'Tonio. Just having a night that's all." His face filled with concern. "Just having a night? I don't understand." She chuckled and blew her nose.

"Don't worry about it. I'm glad you called." Spain's dark, olive green eyes widened. To hear her say those words sent a flurry of emotions through him. His mouth went dry. Antonio's mouth fell open slightly, his back grew ridged. "Belgica..." "Please 'Tonio, don't be so formal with me. Bel or Bella would do." The woman blew her nose again.

"Bella, have you been crying?" His Spanish accent rolled off his tongue like water. It was smooth and thick. He was now over his own excitement and to find out she had been crying, made his stomach drop. "Ja... It's ok 'Tonio, I'm fine. Like I said it's just one of my nights." Between her sniffles, he could hear her voice on the verge of sobbing.

"Oh... Bella..." His mind raced even though it was a little difficult to get it started. His mind was fogged up with wine and was warped around a problem he didn't know quite how to fix. "Uh... Bella... Can I come over, por favor?" There he had asked what he really wanted to ask from the beginning.

You idiot, he screamed inside his own head. He rubbed his sweaty palms on his dark blue jeans and simple red t-shirt. Antonio tried to dry them desperately. Spain felt like he was going to drop his phone if he didn't. Belgium taking her time to decide was also sending his heart and mind into a panic.

She let out a deep sigh. Spain knew it. He had screwed up. The male nation was about to open his mouth to make an excuse but she spoke first. He felt his heart stop, he didn't know what she was going to say. "Don't you have someone else, like everyone else... ? Wouldn't they get mad if you came over at his hour?"

Antonio wanted to snicker, he managed not to. Even though she sounded like she was talking through her nose, he still enjoyed hearing her voice. Spain also thought it was funny that she thought he was with a special someone, little did she know, _she_ was his special someone.

"Bel, mi bella, I'm not with anyone. Haven't been for a while." He smiled widely. "Oh... But all those girls... Then you and Gilbert... " The Spaniard bit his lower lip and chewed on it a while. They parted as friends a while back. He wondered where she found all this out.

"Bella, have you been spying on me?" "No!.. I mean no.. I haven't..." A light unbelieving chuckle followed. "Your coffee shop is across the street from my chocolate shop." Spain couldn't help but beam with joy. He bounced on his toes as he paced back and forth through his living room. The nation felt alive again. Spain ran his free hand over his head, his dark brown locks of hair falling every where.

"So you were... watching me then..." "Oh hush...", she quickly rebuttal. Belgium blew her nose again. "Por lo que puede venir a continuación, por favor?" "I'm sorry 'Tonio, I don't speak Spanish any longer." He cleared his throat. "So, may I come over, please?" Her voice trembled, the male nation could hear it before she spoke. "J.. Ja..."

He explained he'd call a cab and be there in about a half hour or a little more. She agreed to it and they both hung up. Spain did a little hop and skip dance through his one bedroom apartment. He giggled like a mad man. No one would be able to wipe the wide goofy grin off his face. Not even Lovi if he was there. Spain's dreams were finally coming true...


	5. Still Buzzing

35 minutes later Spain arrived to Belgium's house. It was a simple green home with darker green trim and a cobble stone walk way up to her wooden porch. Spain slowly stepped out after paying the greying, older looking, taxi driver.

As the bright yellow taxi drove away, Spain stumbled up the cobble stone walk way that led up to her two story house. It was dark, he couldn't see any details of her yard as he stopped to take in a deep breath. He was still buzzing from the wine, mixed in with the anxiety he was feeling, Antonio had to catch his breath.

His heart pounded and butterflies fluttered in his stomach. The man continued smiling like and idiot, that he couldn't help. Antonio was going to see the face of the woman, he had loved for so long. He tried to envision her beautiful eyes, her golden wavy hair, and her beautiful smile. Spain knew she was upset but he was determined to see her pale, full lips curl up again.

He pressed on, slowly walking up the porch. His legs feeling the affects of the wine, started to feel like jello. Wearing only his dark blue jeans and simple, red t-shirt; he stood in front of her door. He tilted his head down thinking this all had to be a dream. His eyes scanned each dark green, painted wooden plank under his black sneakers with white tipped toes.

The chill of the air nipped at his nose and goose pimples formed on his bare, golden tanned arms. His olive green eyes rose to the light green door with a small oval window, placed in the center of it. The prism formed glass had flowers etched into it. His eyes saw movement from shadows. It was her, Spain thought to himself.

Antonio's mouth went dry as he could see a blurry, golden haired figure quickly walking from what seemed the living room to the kitchen, he guessed. He hesitated a moment before knocking, shoving his left hand into his front, jean pocket. He watched her make a few passes but then the male nation knocked lightly.

One would think, he would have knocked so loudly and heavily, the door would have fallen from its hinges. No, his nerves got the better of him. The elder nation knocked on the door, like an aging grandma. For a moment Spain thought she didn't hear him but moments later he heard a hoarse, "just a minute!"


	6. Never Wanting to Wake Up

Antonio chewed his bottom lip as her light footsteps quickly make their way to the front door. He could see more clearly through the glass, it was her. His heart did somersaults and his stomach tensed up. Spain felt dizzy but didn't know if it was from the wine or from the excitement that welled deep inside him.

Antonio smiled, a wide toothy grin as the door slowly opened. It quickly faded at the sight of Bel. The man stood bewildered. His love was clearly upset, though she tried to smile. Her eyes were dull, puffy and red. Belgium's poor, cute little nose was as red as a tomato, and her cheeks were tear stained.

Spain reached out in amazement and pushed a strand of golden hair from her eyes. He felt a shiver of concern go down his spine. His olive green orbs fell on her gingerly. Antonio's expression was full of worry. Spain's eyes softened. The male nation finally exhaled after realizing he had held his breath as he stepped in.

Not a word was spoke between the two as her leafy green eyes fell to the ground. She looked extremely saddened, while cupping the edge of the door with her shoulder and open palm. Belgium did her best to smile, but the pathetic attempt only made the Spaniard feel worse. She closed the door behind him. Spain turned to face her.

"H.. hallo.. "Tonio." The tall, golden tanned man stood in silence. Spain was deeply worried for his Bella. "S..sorry I look like a mess." Her voice was hoarse and rasped. Probably from crying so much, he assumed. The female never looked him in the face.

Spain studied the blond woman, intently. Looking for any physical evidence that would make her like this. He surveyed her bare shoulders, the thin black straps to her tank top, revealed only freckles, where the sun had kissed her smooth skin.

The females slender neck was accented by her golden locks, that fell only to shoulder length. Her bosom was displayed by the lower cut, neck line of the top. Belgium's slender, ivory form was shown off by the cut off shorts she wore. To Antonio's relief, he saw no bruising or cuts.

His heart slowed. The thought of someone harming her, got the hot blooded Spaniard worked up. As if upon instinct he grabbed her frail looking arm and pulled the other nation into him. His warm, toned arms wrapped around, the trembling woman. Spain could have sworn, she even gasped.

Belgium sniffled and then closed her eyes. Antonio's body warmth, seemed to melt her like ice cream on a hot day. It was slowly building heat that covered the woman like fuzzy blanket. Bel buried her nose into the center of his chest. Spain smiled softly down at the woman and rocked her back and forth. What ever was bothering her, he'd make it better, the man swore to himself.

His chest vibrated tenderly as he began to hum to her. Spain's voice hitched in his throat as Bel's soft, slender hands slowly slid up his back, stopping just below his shoulder blades. Antonio started to hum again, a lovely soft, Spanish tune.

The thick, warm, voice caused the woman to let out a sigh of relief. Both nations were content at the moment. Spain had the woman he desperately loved with his very being, in his arms and she was the recipient of his closeness. The male nation, swore this had to be a dream, he found himself never wanting to wake up...


	7. I'd Like to Come In

"Mi, Bella, what happened?" His tender voice caused her ear to twitch. He watched the pink lobe perk up, slightly. "Just a night...", she mumbled back. "Wanna talk about?" Spain's thick Spanish accent, had her faintly smiling. His charm always had a way of coming out, just at the right moment.

"Geen...", she said softly, almost in a whisper. "Alright, Bella." Antonio, readjusted his arms to hold her more firmly. Bel's head tilted back and her leafy green orbs were slowly gaining their color back, causing an even bigger grin to form on his thin lips.

Bel propped her delicate chin on his chest and looked up at him. The puffiness remained around her eyes but her cheeks were slowly going back to a normal color. "Do you want to come in or stand here in the entry way for the remainder of the night?" Her voice still hoarse but she managed a whisper.

"I'd like to..." Spain caught himself before finishing the sentence with such a lame hit on line. This was Belgium, not some ordinary woman. "You would like to.., what?" Both nation locking eyes and both holding their breaths while she waited for him to say something.

"I'd like to come in", his voice coming out in a mere whisper itself. He backed her up, without letting go. Belgium seemed enchanted by his demeanor and his charm. Without surprise or a bat of an eye, she allowed him to lead her backwards. An action that she didn't think about but he did.

Bel trusted him, Spain made a vow at that moment. He'd never break her trust again. It took him centuries to get back to this point, the man would be damned if it would take him any longer.


	8. His Smell

Spain stopped after a little ways, he noticed her floors were well kept and maintained wooden floors. He let go, causing her to shiver as his body heat disappeared. Belgium took note her cloths smelled good from his cologne that he was wearing. The scent was thick and musk like. Bel pulled up the lower part of her tank top and smelled it.

"You like?" His thick, milky tone caught her off guard as she felt herself blush. Bel's eyes fell towards him, as he was bent over unlacing his sneakers. "I... I..." He chuckled as he stood back up and stepped towards the stammering woman.

She took a step back this time, it was more out of embarrassment of the situation. Belgium couldn't form a full sentence no matter how hard the woman tried. Her mind swimming in emotions and thoughts. Spain clasped her delicate, thin wrist with precision. He pulled her to him.

Antonio's eyes never leaving her beautiful form. "I need to know Bella." He caressed her trusses with his long, rough fingers. Gently tugging at the curls that snagged. Spain really needed to know why she was crying, he couldn't help her if he didn't know and if it was someone that caused it, he wanted to go thank the bastard for making it easy to have the woman of his desires, in his arms.

Bel pressed her cheek to his chest again. "It's stupid...", was all she mumbled. "Not if it makes you this sad", he said comfortingly. "Ja, it is." Her voice dropped. Spain couldn't help but chuckle, causing her to look up at him. His eyes narrowed on her full, soft, pink lips that seemed to purse as he continued to inquire about the situation.

The woman's hands snaked around his waist. She rested them on the small of his back. His broad hands, gently made their way up and down her slender arms. "Fine..." Bel said in an annoying tone as she wrinkled her nose up at him.

Relief traveled through him in one big wave. He noticed her eyes started to return to normal and her body had stopped trembling. Spain waited patiently for her to continue, his hands soaking in the feel of her tender, smooth skin.


	9. I Was Lonely

"I was lonely...", the Belgian blurted out. Antonio blinked in disbelief. She had many friends, unlike him, that came to visit often. Why would she be so lonely, he pondered. "Everyone has their _special someone_... Austria has Hungary, England has France, Germany has Italy, and the list goes on..." Belgium let out a heavy, slow sigh and went to step back but Antonio stopped her by gripping her arms frimly, in mid slide. He held them to his hips. Spain wasn't allowing her to escape. Not now. With every minute he saw her in need, he saw and opertunity to get closer.

"Continue, mi Bella..." His tone was serious but still remained soft. Belgium was in disbelief herself and he could see her swallow hard. Her eyes were wide with shock. "I.. I.. I don't know... Everyone has someone or so it seems, I haven't been on a date in over four years. I've tried dating sites, they only make me upset with all the disappointments. I've tried dating other nations, but we just fall out as friends. I'm tired..."

Before the Belgian could continue, Spain somehow had lowered his head with out her realizing it, since they never stopped gazing into each other's eyes. His hot, dry lips were pressed against hers, her heart skipped a beat as her body grew ridged. Antonio wrapped his, own toned, strong arms around her and pulled her closer.

His body now pressed against hers, she caved after a brief second, fighting with her emotions. Spain's searing tongue danced effortlessly across her lips, begging for entry. Belgium did as her eyes drifted shut, her hands slowly traveling up and across his shoulders and snaking around his neck.

She tasted sweet, like chocolate, and her perfume smelled like vanilla. He explored the cavern of her mouth and then deepened the kiss. A primal nerve stirred. Antonio's hands started roaming across her back, feeling every muscle, and every inch of fabric. This was better then a dream he thought. His senses aroused as Bel flickered her tongue, mimicking his actions.

A deep low growl emitted from him as a soft gentle moan, escaped her. Both in intoxicated in each other's embrace. Both in need and want for each other. She never dreamed it would be him but a part of her was glade it was him. After all this time, she grew to recognize him growing softer and gentler. His kindness showed through his people.

He had become the Spain she always wanted him to be. Her fingers traced the back of his neck, causing him to grow even more excited. The man's hands drifted down, he slowly began to raise her shirt to feel the tantalizing flesh underneath. Bel arched her back slightly. The light caresses of the rough pads of his fingers, forced the woman to do so.


	10. My Little Roma

Both were deep in lust and primal need, then she felt something vibrate in his front jean's pocket, that was pressed against her hip. The sound of the Spanish guitar playing some Italian tune, drifted from the device. Spain slowly broke the kiss as the phone vibrated and called again. Antonio hissed.

"Lo siento mucho, Bella." "It's Lovi, isn't it?" Bel chuckled. "Si...", his eyes locking with hers in an apologetic fashion. Bel cupped his chiseled face and kissed nose. "Answer it...", she said in a comfortingly. The Spaniard growled and dug in his pocket. He touched the screen of the annoying device and pressed the cold item to his ear.

His body slowly cooling as Belgium took a step back from him. Her body seemed to take the warmth with it and for the first time he got to see her in her glory. Her cheeks full of color, her eyes shimmering, and that body of hers...

When the man heard Lovi call him a bastard, Spain snapped back to reality. "This better be good, mi amigo..." Lovino stuttered at first, he wasn't used to his friend being so stern with him. "What..., did I catch you with another tramp, bastard", the Italian question bitterly. Spain chuckled darkly. "No, I'm spending time with Belgium, now hurry up and tell me what's going on." His demanding tone caused Bel to playfully bat the Spaniard's shoulder.

He feigned a wounded shoulder and giggled. Lovino was speechless. "Uh, just my idiot brother crawling under my skin. I'm going to beat that bastard in to a pulp when I see him, next." Spain took a moment. Normaly he would listen to Lovi's problems but this was his time with Belgium. "Ok, so beat him or not, mi amigo, you do anyways no matter what I tell you but my little Roma, I have to go... Despedida."

Spain hung up with out giving the now flustered Italian to say anything in return. His Olive eyes locked on Belgium and before Bel could say anything or react, the nation snagged her back and had his, thin hot lips pressed against hers. This time she melted in his arms. Spain felt her legs grow weak under his weight. Antonio cradled her lower back in his strong arms and supported her.

He guided her into the open living room. The dark brown, cotton couch was his destination. It was soft and fluffy as he pressed her forward on it, not breaking the wonderful kiss they were sharing, another moan escaped her. Spain gently laid himself on top of her as his hands found the, ticklish flesh of her stomach.

His warm hands were welcoming but her stomach twitch and danced at his finger tips. The man loved the feel of her, the taste of her, and her voice. There wasn't anything about Belgium he didn't love. She giggled, forcing some air into his mouth. He broke the kiss, his olive green eyes, shimmered like diamonds.

Belgium reached up and brushed his lips with the pads of her finger tips. They realized the house was quiet, it was just them in the room. A handsome Spanish Prince, gazing into the leafy green eyes of his Belgian Princess.

Antonio nestled himself between her thighs, giggling like and idiot. "Don't ever feel lonely again... ok?" Remembering how he first got here, it broke his heart in two to see her saddened like that. She smiled and that caused his heart to leap and flip for joy. "Alright, as long as you come over more often."

A warm deep laughter escaped him. "If you want, I'll never leave, mi novia hermosa." Belgium gasped. Her Spanish wasn't really good at all but she did understand the word sweetheart. "Are we...?" Belgium couldn't finish her sentence before he pressed a calloused finger on her soft lips. "Si, only if you want." Spain traced her lips gingerly.


	11. No Good Brother

They both swallowed hard. He wanted her to say yes, and she wanted him to visit for such a long time. The woman wanted to catch up and talk to him for what seemed like forever. Belgium had dreamed about this day for the last four years but her brother always got in the way.

Lars wouldn't allow her to go near him. One time her brother even locked her in a closet and left her there for two days because he found the letters she wanted to send to Spain. He burned them of course and threatened he would beat the Spaniard to death if he caught her hanging around him and vice verse.

A lump worked its way into her throat. Her expression changed from a very happy one to an extremely sad one. She tried to to choke it down and live for the moment but the image of her brother beating Antonio was almost unbearable.

Spain confused by her sudden reaction pulled her up into his lap as he leaned back on the arm of the couch. Belgium was now straddling his hips and he was cupping her cheeks. His expression filled with concern. "Bella, what is it?"

Belgium choked back the tears. "It's... It's Lars." She kept trying to shake her head so she didn't have to look Spain in the eyes. "Did he harm you?" Antonio doing his best to keep his voice low and soothing. The thought of someone hurting her, burned him deeply. She shook her head again and sniffled. "Is he responsible for you being alone all these years?" Spain spoke slowly, careful not to rush the words, so she wouldn't know how upset he was with her brother. Bel let out a deep, sigh before tears trickled down her cheeks.

Spain hit the nail on the head and he knew it. Bel was such an out going person, there was no way she'd be this emotionally upset unless it involved her no-good-brother. He gritted his teeth and growled, pulling her into him so he could hold her.

If they were a couple, Lars would definitely go after him. He had to admit, the Dutchman scared him a little bit but it wasn't anything the Spaniard couldn't deal with. Spain was still good in a fight, if it came down to them trading blows but he knew Belgium wouldn't approve of the two quarreling.

Antonio stroked her hair. "Everything will be alright", he cooed in her ear. "I'll talk to your brother tomorrow." The golden blond woman, tried to protest. "If you do, he's going to lock me in the closet again." Spain just shook his head. It wasn't above Netherlands to be so rough. He knew it.

"Like I said, I'll take care everything Bella." He felt her wrap her arms around his torso. Belgium gave a gentle squeeze. Her body felt heavy with worry. Spain kissed the top of her head. He knew there wasn't any short term solution to make her feel better.

Spain realized what he had to do and it bothered him. Right now, he just need to make her smile again though. His mind started to tick and click. What begun as a faint smile, grew into a large grin. He had an idea, he just needed a guitar...


	12. Who's Watching Who?

Belgium let out a long, deep sigh. The occasional sniffle but for the most part she was quiet. Spain drank in the feel of her hair as he ran his fingers through it. Tugging gently at the tangles, he was careful not to cause her any annoyance.

His slowly heavy breathing was soothing to the female nation. The feel of his fingers through her hair, the sound of his heart beat under her ear. He seemed to be her dream come true. Spain felt Belgium shift and watched her eyes close.

Her body was still tense with worry and it bothered him. Antonio wanted the night to be perfect but it seemed to be an up hill battle the entire time, he was there. Spain let out a gentle breath of air, the benign movement caused her to open her eyes and look up at him.

The beauty from her leafy green eyes, caught him off guard. The Spaniard's chest stirred with emotions. First it was a little bit of sadness, he knew Belgica wouldn't want him fighting with her brother. Followed by concern, as his thoughts shifted to what her brother was going to do her when he found out about this arrangement, and yet the rest of him was so happy to have her in his arms.

Despite the different feelings, fighting for dominance inside him, the man couldn't stop smiling. His goofy grin, paired with his shimmering olive green eyes against his sun kissed skin, had Belgium feeling like a school girl. It was like a dream, she was on her couch with the man she had desired to be with. She was very happy regardless her fears.

Spain tugged at her arms, signaling he wanted her to creep up a little closer. As she lifted and pushed herself to be nose to nose with Spain, he flipped over gently. Causing a startled yelp from the blond Belgian. Antonio had a wide grin on his lips.

His green eyes lit up. Spain wanted to kiss her lips but first thing's first. The cage his body formed, seemed to take Bel's breath away. He was laying on top of her, his playful eyes looking down at her. Belgium couldn't help herself and reach to touch his lips lightly. Spain playfully nipped at them, the teeth made a slight sound of a snap as they came together.

She giggled. "Bel, are you still taking Spanish guitar lessons?" Her cheeks flushed like a tomato. She couldn't have been any more perfect looking. Her skin was in great contrast to her eyes as they widened.

"How...?" Then she seemed to settle down after the initial shock. "You've been watching me", she squealed. Damn, Belgica was so cute when she was flustered, he thought. Spain dipped his head down next to her ear as she turned her head and covered her face with a delicate hand.

Spain's breath on her neck caused her to lightly moan, forcing her ears to turn a deeper red then before. She was now almost purple, he thought. The man didn't know that was possible. Spain chuckled, he couldn't help himself. Belgium thought he was evil for doing all of this to her. Goose pimples formed on her flesh from his breath on her lobe.

"I wasn't watching you Belgica... I'll tell you what you told me..." Spain paused and snickered. "It's just your chocolate shop is right across from my coffee shop." His thick, slow, rolling Spanish accent wasn't helping her embarrassment any. She was a mix of being captivated and completely distressed. The man had a way of doing that to people.

Belgium chewed her lower lip as he raised himself slowly to look back into her alluring green eyes. This time he was so close, she could feel his hot breath on her chin and lips as he slowly pressed his weight against her. Spain wanted nothing but to kiss her full, pink lips with his own. His hands, roamed to her hips, gripping them firmly, yet not painfully.

"Por favor, Bella, get your guitar", he whispered. Spain kissed her deeply, surprising the nation who, wrapped her arms around his neck. The searing kiss, lit his senses on fire. His body raged for more. Antonio could feel her passionate need through her kiss and fingertips that seemed to wonder through his messy cocoa, colored hair.

If this continued, he might not be able to stop himself, Antonio thought. He held a strong need for her and she was willing to give him the affection he so desired from her. To much of his surprise she broke the kiss. She was panting heavily, her breaths met up with his as they both stared into each other's eyes. Both searching for the right words to tell the other.

"I... I'll go grab the...", she cleared her throat but her sparkling, leafy green eyes remained staring into his smoldering olive green orbs. "The guitar." They smiled softly at each other as he lifted himself so she could get up. To Belgium's surprise, she had a bit of time finding her legs. The poor female nation staggered to her entry way.

Spain enjoyed watching the poor woman, red as a tomato from embarrassment, try to walk. Belgium stopped and propped her hand on the edge of the tanned color wall. "Uh, 'Tonio, there's wine in the kitchen. Help yourself." The Spaniard popped up from the couch and watched the woman disappear behind the wall into the hallway.


	13. Jealous?

Spain enjoyed watching the poor woman, red as a tomato from embarrassment, try to walk. Belgium stopped and propped her hand on the edge of the tanned color wall. "Uh, 'Tonio, there's wine in the kitchen. Help yourself." The Spaniard popped up from the couch and watched the woman disappear behind the wall into the hallway.

The Spaniard's grin was wide and bright. He was truly happy. It was the first time in so long. Belgium was his again, he thought. The man wouldn't let anything happen to her, he continued to think. Spain stepped into the hallway briefly, and looked up to see her delicate, bare feet vanish.

Once inside her simple, small kitchen; he saw the bottle of white wine sitting on the dark green, granite counter. An empty wine glass was set next to it. He spotted a few drops left in the crystal glass. He picked up the bottle and read the labeling. It was Fiano wine from Sicily.

It seemed his little Romano was still sending her gifts. He had to chuckle himself since the only thing he ever got from Lovi was a hard time. He noticed all her empty bottles that were stacked neatly next to the trash bin were all the same. The Spaniard shook his head and looked around her quaint, little kitchen.

Dark, walnut cabinets accented the cream color walls, with hunter green curtains framing in the two large, windows. One faced the street and the other faced her neighbor's house. A matching, dark wooden coffee table was at the other end of the kitchen, it was beautiful and hand crafted. A gift from her brother he thought.

Spain turned around to face the counter. The woman didn't have much he thought. He begun to search the cabinets for a glass and found what he needed. The smell of chocolate wafted under his nose. He realized that she had backed so much from her little back oven that the wood had absorbed much of the smells.

It was a warm and comforting smell. He let out a little chortle before returning to the glass. After pouring himself some Italian wine, he took in the honey smell that seemed to seep from it. It was sweet and tantalizing. Spain closed his eyes and allowed the alcohol touch his lips. It tasted luscious and with a hint of a nutty after taste. The flavor was like Belgium. Warm and beautiful.


	14. You're Beautiful When You're Happy

Belgium strolled in with her Spanish guitar in her left hand. "I hope this is good enough. It's a beginner's guitar." Bel extended her arm out and held it by the neck, offering up the instrument. "Belgica, it's ok. Besides, I'll give you proper lessons on how to play, if you want to learn. That pompous teacher of yours is a poor excuse for a player anyways", his tone showing a hint of jealousy. Spain didn't catch it but Belgium did.

Bel chuckled. "I know he lacks, _your_ flare for playing, but that doesn't make him a poor player." Spain frowned. He felt like he needed to beat her instructor with the very instrument in his hand. "The man practically hits on you, while your trying to practice." Belgium couldn't help but smile, his bitter Spanish tone was thick.

Spain tuned the guitar after putting the shoulder strap over his head. "Then, he insults your playing. Telling you, you can do better or you can do this or that..." To be honest, Spain disliked any man that went near her. It burned him. Antonio lost count how many times he wanted to go over there and pummel them all with his fists.

"Antonio", Bel snickered. "What", he questioned. Spain didn't notice his tone and facial expressions had changed. "It's nothing", she said with a cat like grin. "It's something", he retorted and taking a large gulp of his wine. "Nope... But dank u." Spain looked at her with inquisitive eyes. "For what?"

"I stopped playing because of him." She didn't want to admit, her young instructor was so hard on her, playing guitar wasn't fun. Bel also didn't feel comfortable with the blond man's eyes watching her cleavage more then listening to her play.

"I figured so", the Spaniard nodded. Playing the guitar was sacred to him; anyone wanting to learn should in his eyes. It's a wonderful way to express one's self. The artist should feel comfortable playing whenever or where ever they felt the need. Whether it be to impress the ladies or to play for children in the street. It doesn't matter and he watched her try. She was good at it too but he would have never made her feel the way her instructor did.

Belgium walked up to the bottle of wine and looked at it. It was almost empty but she could fix that. Bel reached under the counter into the wine cabinet that was nestled right below her. Spain saw her large stash of Italian wine. He was rather taken back for a moment.

The Spaniard begun to strum his fingers and play a beautiful Spanish song. His fingers plucked the right strings at the right time. His speed and accuracy was mind bending. The large open space in her kitchen became his stage as she pulled herself up on her counter and watched him play.

Bel closed her eyes briefly. The female nation leaned her head back on the dark wooden doors behind her. She sipped her sweet wine as the heat, melted away her stress. Belgium couldn't help but smile. She was taken back to Spain's home. The smell of the tomato fields, Lovi helping her, while Spain watched them both.

He played guitar back then, but she could tell he had gotten better since then. Bel's smile widened. Spain felt relieved he could make her smile and relax. Antonio started softly singing in Spanish. Bel could no longer remember the words but she could feel his emotions through his words.


	15. He Has Too

Bel let out a sigh of content. Spain chased all her dark clouds away with his simple words and the guitar he played with excellent skill. He made everything seem like it was all going to be alright. Spain saw his magic working as her body seemed to start swaying to the beat of the music. His plan worked, he thought with joy. He could do this all night as long as it made her happy.

Belgium, with her eyes closed, missed the cat like grin that curled up on Antonio's face. His heart fluttered, seeing her in such a state. "Belgica..." "Si", she responded. Spain paused a moment in his thoughts, but never stopped strumming the guitar. "You're beautiful, when you're happy", his voice came off in a soft whisper. Belgium became flustered and self conscious suddenly, her instant red cheeks caused the male nation to bellow out a laugh.

"Spain...", she grumbled. Belgium managed to hide her face with her hand. "Si?" "Just play... No talking..." Spain couldn't contain himself any more. He stopped playing and took off the strap, setting the guitar down on the kitchen table behind him.

His legs swiftly brought him to her. The nation stood in front of Belgium and laughed. He tugged at her hands and pulled them away from her face, despite her protests. " 'Tonio, stop it", she tried saying through her own giggles. "No... Bella, I want to see you."

Once he pulled her hands away from her face, he pulled her up in his arms and kissed her. The sweet wine residue on her lips caused him to deepen the kiss. He wanted to taste it too. She softy moaned and stopped struggling. Her hands instead started tugging on his red t-shirt.

Her hands did a bit of exploring of his ridged abs and slowly made their way up to his chest. His Spanish hot blood began to boil with passion. He wanted it all right there. Spain's patients was growing thin.

Spain began to knead the back of her neck with a strong, yet rough hand. His other gripped fists full of her silk like hair. God, he prayed. Spain needed the strength and patients of a saint, he didn't know how long he could last with her desiring the same thing.

If she was an ordinary woman, he would have done her by now but no this Belgium. He wanted to take his time with her. Spain wanted to cherish the woman; he would have to just get through moments like these, he thought grudgingly.

Spain dropped his hand from her neck to her lower back and broke the kiss. Both stared into each others eyes. "Belgica, let's take this slow... Si?" The smile on Bel's face told him everything he needed to know. "Ja", she agreed. "Gracias", he whispered. He and her both were relieved the other wanted to savor the moment.

Then something awful happened causing sheer panic to travel through Belgium. The sound of the door opening and slamming shut. Spain physically saw the color leave her face and her began to visibly shake with fear. "Holanda", he questioned in a whispered tone. "J.. ja..." Spain nodded and let a deep breath. This was bad, he thought but it was going to happen sooner or later. At least here, he could protect Belgium.

"Bel, this isn't going to be easy but I need to do this..." Belgium nodded as Spain let go of her. The Spaniard looked over his shoulder one last time before meeting his future. The woman stared at the floor with a dead pan expression. Spain shook his head and promised he'd make it up to her before he turned the corner to meet the angered Dutchman...


	16. Holland's Pride

Spain stepped into the short hallway facing the Dutchman who was momentarily oblivious to the Spaniard. Antonio's breath became ridged and his olive green eyes narrowed. His heart was heavy with guilt. He knew this wasn't going to end well for either nation. Holland was a hot tempered nation, who tolerated little, and hated him for taking his sister away.

Netherland's turned to see Spain standing in the shadows of the hallway. Deep, ocean blue eyes, lit up with flames. The large male nation began shaking with anger. "Spanje! What the hell are you doing here", Netherlands bellowed out at the top of his lungs.

Holland balled his fists and begun to stomp his way towards Spain rather quickly. Spain's trained eye caught the drop in the shoulder right before Netherlands could sucker punch him. The taller nation missed as Antonio stepped back with ease.

"Holanda... Calm down, amigo. I don't want to fight you." "Then leave", the large male nation growled back. Spain held up both his hands in a defensive fashion, backing up slowly as he attempted to make small talk. He hoped the back door was at the end of the hallway, so he could move a little easier to avoid Netherlands attacks. Not to mention, Belgica didn't need to see the two fighting.

Holland continued to stalk Spain, quickly. Taking swings at the nimble Spaniard, who ducked and avoided everything the Dutchman could throw at him in the confined area. Antonio could read Netherlands' movements quite easily. It was simple, his larger size gave away a lot to the trained eye.

What the angered nation didn't realize, he was being baited by Antonio's sweet demeanor and smile. Spain was leading the dance between him and Lars. With every step the blond nation took forward, Antonio took one back and with every quick swing, the Spaniard bobbed and weaved.

"Stay still!" Spain couldn't help but chuckle at the childish demand from his opponent. "Sorry, mi amigo. I can't do that." Pictures were starting to fall and break from the Dutchman's untimely punches. The hall seemed to small for the larger nation to fight in, which worked in Spain's favor.

To Antonio's luck, he stumbled backwards a little as his foot almost missed the step leading down into the utility room. Netherlands tried to capitalize on the situation and dart after the shorter nation. Spain let out a light chortle as he dropped to his feet and rolled backwards on the hard wooden floor. The Dutchman missed as he reached for him.

Spain had finally gotten to where he wanted to be. His back was pressed to the screen door as his snaked his hand around behind him and slid the handle down to open it quickly and quietly. He didn't want Holland to know what he was up to. "This is getting us no where Lars." The Dutchman squared up as he was ready to tackle the other man.

"You're right, you won't stand still so I can beat you to death!" Spain wanted to say, it wasn't his fault the other nation had bad aim, but he kept his mouth shut as he could hear Belgium begging her brother to leave 'Tonio alone. Lars told her to shut up in Dutch. The nation even questioned her virtue for having such a filthy, Spanish rat in her home. Spain, never forgot how to speak Dutch, he recognized the curses and insults that spewed from Holland's lips.

Naturally earlier when he heard Netherlands was the reason for Belgica's dismay and her tears, he was angered; but now to hear her own brother call her dirty things and soil her name, Antonio wanted the man to bleed. He didn't just want, he _**needed**_ to see his blood spill, he wanted him to scream in pain. No one on this Earth is allowed to speak to _**his**_Belgica like that. Antonio was beyond angered, he saw red as his olive green eyes widened; the only real sign Netherlands was starting to get under his tanned skin. The taller nation smirked. For a moment, he found pleasure in getting a rise from the usual happy-go-lucky bastard.

"Yo, mi amigo let's take this out side." The Spaniard's sudden dark tone caused a shiver to go down Holland's spine. "Fine", Lars snarled. In a flash Spain turned on his heels and was out the screen door and back door. Holland closely followed. The large nation knew something snapped inside that idiot's head and he had to tread lightly before going out the door.

_**To go against Spain without knowing your next move could cause to be fatal. **_Holland remembered the exact words France told him long ago. Spain had the same, deadly grin and devilish green eyes as he did back in the day when he was fighting for his freedom from the tyrant but despite the looks, it was his voice.

Holland remembered that voice all to well. It was dark and thick. It was something about that voice that caused the air to become stale. Netherlands always believed Spain was a demon deep down and you could hear it in his voice. The thing inside that nation's soul was twisted and dark.

Lars could feel the hairs on the back of his neck begin to stand. He never liked the sinking feeling of fear right before a fight. It rocked his insides like a ship tossed in a violent sea. He swallowed hard. This fight was going to be a bad one. Holland hasn't felt this kind of anxiety in a _**long **_time.

Netherlands gathered his courage up and let out a jagged breath. Just like old times, only this time he'll get his revenge for everything that man did to him and his sister. Those were the only thoughts in his head at the moment and it was the only spark of hope he had to win this.

Lars' pride wouldn't allow him to step down and he knew if he lost to that Spanish bastard, he was going to keep coming around. No, he didn't have a choice, losing wasn't an option, though it never was. Holland ran his thick fingers through his spiked, blond hair. "Man, I should've stayed home", he grunted before going outside...


End file.
